


The Rift and the Vortex

by aceofneverland



Series: rift & vortex one shots [4]
Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005), Torchwood
Genre: Ianto Jones isn't dead, Ianto POV, M/M, Series 03 Fix-It: Children of Earth (Torchwood), Temporary Character Death, UNIT sucks, introspective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 05:15:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26760064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aceofneverland/pseuds/aceofneverland
Summary: The Rift ran through Cardiff for over one hundred years, saturating the city with energy like no other. It could be joked that if you were born in Cardiff, you were born tied to the Rift.   Time shifts, parallel worlds - if you’d been in Cardiff for long enough it was possible that you could understand it all in ways no other city could.   It touched its people, soaked through them.   When a Rift soaked man meets a man living off time vortex energy, anything could happen.Children of the Earth fix-it.** can be read on its own!
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Series: rift & vortex one shots [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2004661
Comments: 22
Kudos: 73





	The Rift and the Vortex

**Author's Note:**

> Children of the Earth fix it. Also, this is written under the assumption that Ianto knows Sarah Jane Smith better than a brief meeting BECAUSE THEY SHOULD HAVE. They are same character different font, and they would love each other.

The Rift ran through Cardiff for over one hundred years, saturating the city with energy like no other. With stories. Everyone who grew up in Cardiff whispered about it. The strange happenings - things that would appear or disappear. People that would appear or disappear. There was just something different about Cardiff because of the Rift, about her people. Anyone who’d spent enough time in Cardiff could feel it, knew it in their bones.

Ianto Jones knew it. Understood when he returned to Cardiff after three years in London what it was about the city. He’d heard whispers growing up. Old wives’ tales and odd occurrences that could be chalked up to someone having too much to drink or to smoke. It wasn’t though, and dragging himself back to his home city with a broken Lisa, he understood. It’s part of the reason why Torchwood Three was so much of a better bet than Two. On top of Jack, of Three being more connected to One, and of Ianto just getting to go home - Cardiff had the Rift. If there was any city where there was hope to bring her back, to save her, it would be the city dripping in Rift energy.

Everyone was saturated in it. It could be joked that if you were born in Cardiff, you were born tied to the Rift. Time shifts, parallel worlds - if you’d been in Cardiff for long enough it was possible that you could understand it all in ways no other city could. It touched its people, soaked through them. And sometimes it took them.

Perhaps that was why. It shouldn’t have worked in the first place. The first time Ianto Jones died was because of his own mistake, his own hope. Flying across the hub only took a second, but it was long enough for him to understand that this was it. He was done for. Even if it wasn’t immediate, there was no reason why anyone on the team should try to save him. When he cracked back against the concrete, everything went black. 

There was something there. Not something lurking the way Suzie or Owen would describe it. He wouldn’t say it aloud, scared of sounding insane, but it was the same feeling he got when he stood too close to the water tower. Like something was welcoming him back, welcoming him into the cold and the dark. And then there was warmth. It was surrounding him. It started at his lips, but he could feel the way it spread across his body. And through the darkness broke a golden light like nothing he’d ever seen before. It was beautiful and warm, and when it reached him it felt like he was on fire. He could feel the cold of the Rift, holding on. Touching the warmth. Mingling with it.

And then he was gasping awake, clutching onto a body hovering over him. Jack. Jack who should have just let him die. Who had no reason to come to him, to revive him. But there he was. Ianto felt warm and cold all at once. He felt like there was energy running through him. Adrenaline, he’d pass it off to. A near-death experience, he’d explain later. He wouldn’t suspect what it really was, not until later.

The second time he died, Ianto Jones would never remember it. Saxon had pressed Torchwood to go to the Alps. He said there was Rift activity all the way out there. He was suspicious, they all were. There’d been something building ever since Jack left. Like there was something coming. He didn’t think they should leave - something in his gut telling him to stay. To defend Cardiff. But they did leave. 

He knew it was a set up far too late. It was only as he was gasping back to life, trying to claw his way out of a body bag that he realized two things. He was alive, the same feeling as the last time running through him. And they had been set up. He had no time to grieve, barely made it back to Cardiff at all. And he knew that if Jack was at the center of all of this, which knowing Jack he was, he would have been told that his team was dead. Ianto was tempted to go to London, to get to where Jack was. To bring it all down. But no - he wasn’t that reckless anymore. Maybe right after Lisa had died, but not anymore. He didn’t even know what was happening.

So he went to Cardiff, he helped on the ground. He helped keep people safe. He did what he was meant to do. The Rift was quiet that year. It was as though even the Rift knew that this was wrong. That everything was splintering. Ianto didn’t know how he knew it. He just knew that whenever he saw the Toclafane, they felt wrong. He knew the Rift was lashing out against them. The Rift wouldn’t eat them though. He felt locked, trapped.

And then it was gone. Then it was the day of First Contact, and he wouldn’t remember any of it.

It wouldn’t happen again for just over a year, which was still a high rate even for a Torchwood agent. But after Jack came back, Ianto began to question things. Cuts and bruises. It wasn’t anything that concerned him. Nothing that he brought up, because maybe he was just overthinking things. After all there were days that felt like weeks and weeks that felt like a day at Torchwood. Everything was always moving, he never had time to properly stop and wonder.

Until his third death. Laying in the Thames House, clutching onto Jack, he knew this was it. He could feel the darkness, the cold taking over. He could feel it drawing him in, and it wasn’t long now.

“Don’t forget me.”

“Never could.”

✰✰✰

It was dark and cold. Empty. He wasn’t even sure if he was aware of it all. And then warmth. It started in his chest, deep down. Tugging at him, spreading outwards. Golden light engulfing everything and mixing with the cold. And then he could breathe. He could feel himself breathing.

He sat up, gasping for air, but it was still dark. Not dark like before, but dark like - he was in a bag. His thoughts were running so fast he couldn’t even catch one. Gasping, he couldn’t breathe in enough. His fingers clawed at the zip until - there. A thin slit of light. Ianto tugged, tugged until the light was bigger and bigger and he was shucking off the bag. A body bag.

There were bodies. Just rows of them. It was quiet, too quiet, and the floor beneath him was hard and cold. But he could feel. He could feel. He was dead, but now he wasn’t and he could feel again. He pinched himself hard on the leg. Yup, definitely alive. He looked around more carefully, noting the empty spot beside him.

Where Jack must have been. Jack who must have already woken up and been carted off somewhere. Some big bureaucratic thing. Ianto needed to be there, Jack needed him there to soothe the feathers. He pushed himself up. He had to move, had to find Jack. He nearly tripped over the body bag that tangled around his feet. He could hear movement, footsteps. Echoing through the deathly still room.

“Freeze. Hands where I can see them.”

Ianto turned slowly, hands up. UNIT - the red caps really gave it away. “I’m Ianto Jones, I’m with Torchwood.”

“You - you were dead. Everyone’s dead!”

“I need you to get in contact with -”

“Everyone’s dead! You should be dead. Why aren’t you dead!”

Ianto could hear footsteps coming from behind him as well. Another person. Maybe this one would actually listen to what he was saying. As he turned to face the approaching newcomer - well he heard it before he felt it. The shot of a gun, the smell of smoke. Then he felt it, piercing through him. Good shot, was the last thing he thought before he hit the ground.

The next time he woke up with a gasp, clawing away the cold and the darkness, he was greeted by blinding lights. He hissed and squeezed his eyes shut. He tried to bring his hands up to his face but found he couldn’t move them up much. Slowly blinking open his eyes he found them chained to the table in front of him. Metal table, metal handcuffs. Bright, fluorescent lights. The door opened and a woman walked in flanked by two UNIT officers. UNIT - this wouldn’t be good. The stories he’d heard from Sarah Jane and Jack alone told him this wasn’t good.

He was only getting out if he could get in contact with one of them. 

“Mr. Jones, I see you’re back in the land of the living again.” 

“Look, you’re making a mistake here. You know who I am. You know I’m Torchwood, and I know you know what’s going on out there. Just make a call to Jack Harkness - or hell Sarah Jane Smith.”

“I’m afraid we can’t, Mr. Jones. We have some questions for you first.”

“Questions! The government is about to give ten percent of the children to an alien species. Listen, you need to get me to Jack Harkness. He is the only one who can do anything about the 456 and Gwen Cooper sure as hell isn’t going to convince him to see that there’s still hope.”

“I can assure you that everything with the children is under control. UNIT has taken over communications with the 456, and we are handling it.”

Ianto felt a chill run over him. UNIT was running the show now. Torchwood and UNIT hadn’t gotten along since, well for as long as Ianto had been a part of Torchwood which was a significant amount of time given Torchwood’s mortality rate. But given the situation, given that there was no man in a blue box showing up to save the day and children were at risk - Jack would work with UNIT. It wouldn’t be pretty, but if it was going to save people.

“You’re going to give them the children.” His voice was low, cold. It wasn’t a question.

“I believe I’m the one asking the questions around here. Now tell me, Mr. Jones. There were only two survivors of the Thames House. Jack Harkness and yourself. The UNIT officer who brought you in said he shot you, yet here you are. Not even a bullethole. How?”

“I don’t know.”

“Mr. Jones, it will be a lot easier if you just tell me how.”

“What, can’t get your hands on Jack so you thought you could go for me?”

One of the UNIT officers stepped forward, but the woman just raised her hand and stopped the motion. “So you’re like Harkness?”

“Don’t know.” Ianto shrugged as best he could with his hands chained to a table. His mind was spinning. Surviving the gas was one thing. Jack could have done something - nanogens, his Vortex Manipulator, anything. But Jack wasn’t there when he woke up, which meant Jack thought he was dead. He wouldn’t have just left Ianto there. And he’d been shot. He’d felt the shot go through him. He didn’t understand.

He didn’t know how he was sitting here. The cold, the darkness, the warmth. The weird tingling that he felt whenever he got close to the Rift Manipulator. The warm, golden glow that had guided him back. He didn’t understand any of it. He just wanted Jack. Jack who might not have the answers but would be there. Could steady him, keep his mind from spinning out of control. Jack who had a mission and a purpose, and Ianto could focus on that instead of the spinning in his mind.

Purpose. Mission. He had a mission, something to focus on. He needed to get out of her.

“Well if you don’t know, perhaps our scientists could explain.” The woman motioned and the UNIT officers moved forward.

Ianto just laughed. “Please, if Owen Harper could never explain Jack, what makes you think anyone here could. Torchwood has had over a century to study Jack Harkness, to explain him. To replicate him. And they never did. You have no chance.”

“Well maybe we’ll just keep you here for two centuries. Three, however long it takes to understand.”

Ianto just laughed again. They couldn’t do that. They couldn’t. Jack would come. Jack would - Jack thought he was dead. He would have been there if he thought there was any chance Ianto would have survived. And - well Ianto didn’t know how much time had passed, but it had to be getting close. The children. They had no way of stopping it. But Jack could come up with something - together they could come up with something. He had to get out of her.

“Mr. Jones, it would be far easier if you would just explain. Then we can let you go.”

“No. You won’t,” Ianto said. “Not until the 456 is dealt with in your way. Because if Jack’s only plan ended with me dying, it’ll be easy to keep him out of the way. To do this your way. But if I’m alive - he won’t stop fighting. So you need me out of the way. You need me here.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Ianto scanned the room. There. A security camera. If he’d - no, he had come back. Odds are, this went high in UNIT. Another immortal. If there was a chance. “Whoever is listening in - Sarah Jane Smith. If you know her, call her -”

“Silence him, take him to one of the isolation cells.”

The UNIT officers moved, but Ianto had to keep talking. “If any of you know Sarah, tell her I’m here. It’s the only hope you have.”

He felt something heavy hit his head, and everything was going dark. Not the same way as when he died. God, he’d died. No, this was just - sleep.

✰✰✰

Jack Harkness leaned against the wall. Silent. Heavy. Heaviness filled the air and silence slipped through the hallway. A doorway opened, and Alice Carter took a step out. He looked up, they made eye contact. With a glare, Alice retreated back into the room. There would be no forgiveness, no reconciling. Any hope he had of his daughter trusting him, gone.

The door opened again, this time one of the military officers walking out. He crossed the hall in a matter of steps, heading straight towards Jack. He held out a cellphone. “For you.”

“Whoever it is, tell them I’m not here.”

“Jack Harkness!”

Sarah Jane’s voice echoed loud enough through the receiver. “She’s insistent,” the man said.

Jack grabbed the phone from the man. “What?”

“UNIT has Ianto.”


End file.
